Life is full of so many expectations.
Each day, not knowing what will occur. The end of a significant bond or relationship can lead to the realization of something ground breaking in one’s life. It can open a wound, but at the same time open a door. To a future that was locked, hesitant to step through into more of what is unknown. I remain for a moment in wonder of what has been invested. Not wanting to count my loses and move forward. Wishing to remain, to go back or perhaps be transported down the road where a heart has healed and a new vibrant season ensues. Unfortunately or perhaps fortunately this is not life. I, we are to continue each day no matter what the circumstance. Whatever matter of the heart must be dealt with. Life is not an instrument in which we pick and choose what it is we are and ought to experience. Life is that wonderful terrible phenomenon in which we have no choice but to take each moment as it comes, and then within each moment choose how we will live. Whether wounded or of full strength we go forward. Experiencing-enjoying or loathing each moment. Maximizing or wasting each moment. This is life.
Journal – June 30, 2007
This was a journal entry from almost three years ago. How time flies, but I seem to keep trying to give myself the same advice. I am certain I have given in the past and give the advice to others. But there are just some days that I cannot seem to grasp it myself. I live in the past. Sometimes quite angry, I do not know if that awful victim mentality is going around, but I seem to catch it like the common cold. I am certain that we have all been cheated, disappointed, lonely, hurt, or disrespected perhaps by people we admire or love. I notice I will carry these grudges like a heavy load it does nothing for me physically except give me raging headaches.
I noticed in a few instances I felt as though I had lost respect for people and felt so beguiled that the thought of their demise would cause me intrigue. Not good, just contemplating how their personal empire would fall. As if they were the evil tyrant in my story, and I of course the great hero. As the hero is it my job to confront this enemy? Should I be the brave soul who attempts to act as my version of a mirror image for them? Should I tell them meticulously ever rancid character trait they contain? I am certain I would love for whoever thinks I am their enemy to do that to me. Not exactly, I would fold like a pretzel into the fettle position for days trying to bandage my emotional scars.
They however move on with their life, as I cradle myself in a corner. Instead of planning my life I waste it perhaps waiting for revenge to come. As if revenge was a person who would visit. I never thought I would be someone who thought that way, who wasted anytime. Yet here I wallow in my pit from time to time. When I feel begrudged, when I stare at the clock thinking perhaps this will be the hour.
